Broken Pavement
by usiylover2
Summary: The road to New Vegas is a long one, and Blaine is used to weary travelers showing up in the Big Iron. But when several groups come in at the same time, everything seems to fall into place like it never has before.


Author: priestessofxtc

Title: Broken Pavement

Fandom: Glee/Fallout: New Vegas crossover

Rating: Currently T for swearing, later M for smut.

Pairings: Klaine, Brittana, Fina, Puckleberry, Sinn, Martie.

Warnings: Swearing, slash, femmeslash, slavery, prostitution, and murder.

Summary: The road to New Vegas is a long one, and Blaine is used to weary travelers showing up in the Big Iron. But when several groups come in at the same time, everything seems to fall into place like it never has before.

Kurt looked up as the door to the Big Iron opened, a little bell chiming that he may have customers on his hands. He smiled faintly at the NCR officers who entered, instantly sitting a little straighter on his stool. Lately the NCR squatters in Freeside had been finding reasons to drag people off to "correctional facilities" to do hard labor, and he had no intention of leaving Blaine all alone here at the bar. Especially after they had worked so hard to get it in the first place.

They had taken over the Atomic Wrangler and renamed it, after an unfortunate accident involving the Vangraffs and the Garrets ended with them both dead. It had cost them a fortune and they were still working to pay the debt. But so far, the Kings had been pretty nice about it. The makeshift ambassador, Finn, they'd sent over to collect the money was a sweet kid. He brought his girlfriend, Tina, too and typically they'd stay for a beer and a couple of rounds of slots before they left. They'd been friends for a bit, even though they had to do business. Kurt liked feeling like he had a friend in a high place. It made him feel secure.

The male officer nodded at Kurt, his sharp brown eyes moving quickly over him and behind his head, looking at someone behind him. The woman next to him looked too, her hand moving to her gun as she and the other officer shared a look that could only mean trouble. Kurt's hand shot out, taking the man's with practiced ease. Blaine watched quietly, used to seeing this painful dance, as Kurt smiled warmly at the stranger. His other hand wandered down to the officer's belt where he played with the buckle absently, reeling him in slowly but surely.

"You look like you could use a little R and R, _officer_." The man pulled away gently, frowning at Kurt's advances but sufficiently distracted. The last thing they needed was a gun fight with the army. The woman glared at Kurt and put a hand on the man's shoulder, pulling him towards her protectively. _Oh_, it was like that. He smiled weakly at her, shrugging and sipping his water as she leaned forward and whispered something to her companion.

"Puck, we should go." She said flatly, moving away from him completely to try and seem official. Puck nodded, buying 3 bottles of whiskey and a little bag of ice (the last they had left, Kurt thought) before moving towards the door. He looked over Kurt's head again, pulling the woman in that direction too, clearly desiring whatever it was he saw. Kurt didn't look to see. It wasn't his job to see. It was his job to _be_ seen.

"Puck, please, let's just go. Leave it alone; we don't need more trouble than we have." She hissed, but Puck kept moving.

"Look at her Berry. She's a Khan and she has a slave with her. I'll get promoted for bringing back a Khan's shit and a freed slave." He looked at her pointedly, continuing. "And so will you if you help me." Berry sighed but went towards the back with him, straight for the black jack table. Kurt stood, glancing at Blaine who was moving swiftly from behind the counter, running after them in an attempt to stop whatever was about to happen. But they'd already seen each other.

"The fuck're you staring at, murder?" It was a tall girl with honey colored skin, dressed in metal and denim. Her dark, wavy hair was pulled back into a pony tail high on her head, but the tips of it still brushed her waist. Behind her stood a small blonde with dirt smeared on her face, a ripped pink pre-war dress hanging loosely from her thin frame. Around her neck, a bulky slave collar blinked green and red in quick succession, dull with grime from the dusty outside. Kurt had seen them before around town. He knew that the King's best friend Pacer had been trying to get old school nasty with her, but he wasn't sure _why_ she was in town.

Puck didn't flinch from her accusation but Berry did. The girl noticed and locked on immediately.

"Oh, you feelin' a little guilty about it? What was it like, shooting those little kids?" She was in Berry's face, taking a sick pleasure in yelling at her. She grabbed at her chin, forcing Berry to meet her eyes.

"My mom died. So did my little brother, you sick fuck." Puck reached for her, snatching at her forearm and twisting it behind her back. He pulled her close, grabbing her plasma pistol out of its holster and wrapping a plastic tie around her wrists to keep her still. Kurt was frozen; fascinated with the scene that would destroy the Big Iron's hard earned reputation of being just as good as the Atomic Wrangler. Blaine made a low groaning noise behind him as the pair drug the cursing warrior out of the bar. The blonde lingered, watching Kurt intently for a second before wandering over to him.

"I'm Brittany. Let's be friends." She said softly. He looked at her like she had lost it—which she may have, as many slaves did—and she took his moment of shock to wrap her arms around his shoulders and kiss his cheek warmly before running after her mistress. Blaine looked at him, visibly shaken by what had just happened. Kurt reached for his hand, squeezing it gently over the bar.

"We're fucked." Blaine said matter-of-factly. Kurt was silent for a moment, trying to think of something comforting to say before he released his part-time boyfriend.

"Should I go tell them?" Blaine nodded, his mop of dark curls obscuring his eyes as he looked down at the pile of caps on the counter.

"I'll start packing." Blaine said, grabbing them and sweeping them into a bag under the bar. Kurt nodded back, trying not to think to hard about where they would go as he trod out the door and up the street. He slunk into the Silver Rush ("Under new management" read the sign tacked on the door) and was almost instantly caught in a soft, warm hug.

"Hi Mercedes." He managed to choke out, and she let him go with a smile. She was a large black woman with balls to match, if the minigun strapped to her back said anything about it. Her hair was kept in a messy bun on top of her head and the leather armor that covered her was surprisingly soft and supple. Kurt heard a squeaking noise as Artie came out from the back in his home-made wheel chair, his hair flopping down over his glasses and his white tee shirt covered in oil and soot. He smiled at Kurt too, holding up a little can with a battery strapped to it.

"It's like two plasma grenades in one. It's amazing. I just finished testing it and wow, it blew the shit out of those dummies!" His spoke quickly and Kurt mustered up a weak smile at Artie's enthusiasm. The two owned the gun shop now, with Mercedes doing all the people work and Artie building and modding all sorts of new weapons. He and Blaine were friends with the happy couple, who'd recently had their first child, Shilo.

They had gotten the Silver Rush shortly after he and Blaine had gotten the Big Iron and had developed a close "family" complete with an honorary place as the baby's "uncles." But now that would all be over. Kurt's smile faded and pushed his bangs to one side in an old nervous gesture, opening his mouth once and then snapping it shut. Mercedes spoke first.

"What happened, Kurt? Is Blaine okay? Are you okay?" She asked, grabbing him and pressing different parts of his arms and chest, apparently looking for broken bones. He pulled away gently, a smile lighting up his face so he wouldn't cry. He shook his head.

"I'm fine Mercedes. Really. It's just…it's just…" He could feel tears prickling in his eyes and he wiped at them furiously, as if it was his tear duct's fault all of this was happening. "We have to go. Some NCR pricks just drug that Khan girl Pacer's been trying to fuck out of the bar. And we didn't stop them, so…" He didn't say that the Kings would kick them out at best, or kill them at worst. He didn't need to. Mercedes groaned and pulled Kurt into another hug.

"Okay. We'll have out stuff together in the hour." Artie said, turning and beginning piling the guns on the walls into his lap.

"What? What are you doing? Why are you—"

"Well, first," Mercedes held up a finger, ticking off the reasons as she began, "if you're going, we're not just going to stay. We're family, remember? Second: We're your friends and the Kings know it. We have to go." She paused, thinking. "Do you think they'll kick Tina and Finn out too?" She asked. Kurt hadn't even thought of the impact their action—inaction?—would have on their neighbors. He nodded slowly.

"They're out too. Someone needs to warn them." Mercedes added, answering her own question. She turned Kurt around and pushed him out the door.

"Go pack and meet us here. If Finn and Tina get out alive…well, then I guess we'll take them too." Kurt ran back to the Big Iron, bursting through the doors and shuffling the customers out. Some of them tried to fight at first, but in the end it amounted to nothing more than a few grumbles. A half hour later, they were packed and at the door and—gun shots.

Kurt froze, hearing distinctly feminine scream down the street. It didn't sound like Mercedes, he thought, and he didn't have to wait long to find out who it was.

"Help, please! Kurt, Blaine, please, they shot him. They shot him and they threw him in the street and he won't stop bleeding. Please, please!" Tina was tugging at his clothes, pulling him out the door as Blaine followed, digging in his pack for anything to help. Kurt saw Mercedes and Artie coming down the road, Mercedes holding Shilo to her chest as Artie scrambled for stimpacks in his bag. Tina dropped to her knees, breathing heavily as tears rolled down her face, but without crying out. The wound was gaping and clear through him, just under his lung. A red and black spider crept across his shirt, staining the white with unholy pain.

Kurt grabbed first a bottle of water and then one of whiskey from Blaine, holding the water to Finn's lips as Blaine and Mercedes picked him up and moved him onto one of the several discarded mattresses around them. Kurt held his mouth shut and forced him to swallow half the bottle before pouring whiskey over the wound. Finn moaned in pain and Artie took the time to hand Shilo to Kurt and use two of the stimpacks they'd managed to get together on the wound. Tina stroked his hair out of its usual ridiculous poof, placing little kisses on his forehead and whispering that it would be alright while Kurt ripped his only spare shirt to make a bandage. They wrapped the pieces around the slowly healing wound as Finn's eyes flickered open and met Tina's.

"Hey, pretty mama." He muttered, trying to smile but instead grimacing in pain as the stimpacks pulled at his skin and closed the wound. Tina giggled, her voice cracking under her emotion as she responded.

"Hey, daddio." She said, brushing bits of asphalt off of his leather jacket with a tender hand. Blaine and Mercedes moved to either side of the mattress, picking it up and bringing it into the Big Iron. They put it in the floor, dropping their things to tend to Finn again.

"We'll have to stay the night." Blaine said firmly. Mercedes and Artie both nodded, but Finn shook his head furiously.

"No. No way man. You guys go." He looked at Tina pointedly. "All of you. I'll catch up. I feel better already, see?" he tried to sit up, but fell back with a grunt. Tina grabbed his hand and held it tight.

"Uh-huh. I'm staying with you babe." She said, ad it was obvious she meant it. Mercedes took Shilo, holding the sleeping child close to her and sitting to lean against the wheels of Artie's chair. Kurt laid and rested his head in Blaine's lap, a mirror of the couple on the bed.

Kurt's soft snores where a comfort to Blaine. Even though he couldn't sleep. Even though he was tormented with worry for him and his almost-family. He could consol himself with the hope that in the morning they would pack up and set out over the broken pavement to find a new home.


End file.
